May... but it’s not the May you were expecting. Snow is piling up thickly, and the strong wind bends the trees under its pressure. The wind howls outside, and snowflakes fill the air, covering everything. Arthur Morgan sat by the window, leaning on the sill, staring out at the storm with clear concern.

"What the hell... May, and we’ve got a winter storm," he muttered, adjusting his hat that the wind kept blowing off. His voice was low and slightly irritated, but you saw him glance at you, his eyes full of care. "Better stay inside today, ain’t no less snow than in January."

(My telegram channel: sweetplush)